


dinner for two +2

by promiseland



Series: Gallya drabbles [1]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 08:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5283632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/promiseland/pseuds/promiseland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an awkward moment that Gaby could have well lived without. Currently the set up is Napoleon staring at Illya with a questioning look, Illya staring at her with his eyes narrowed to thin lines and Gaby glaring at Waverly with her best 'if you were not my boss I'd cut you to pieces' -look, who in turn is giving Gaby his best apologetic expression. In his defence, he really didn't want her this situation either.</p><p>OR the one where Gaby has a secret meeting with Waverly, the boys invade and awkwardness is unavoidable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dinner for two +2

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on a rather angsty oneshot and this fluff just keeps on emerging from somewhere to balance it out.

It's an awkward moment that Gaby could have well lived without. Currently the set up is Napoleon staring at Illya with a questioning look, Illya staring at her with his eyes narrowed to thin lines and Gaby glaring at Waverly with her best 'if you were not my boss I'd cut you to pieces' -look – who in turn is giving Gaby his best apologetic expression. In his defence, he really didn't want her this situation either.

“You told I was the only one invited.” She finally mutters in an icy tone from where she stands across the entrance to the cozy hall that serves as both the living room and dining area of Waverly's personal residence. Her hands are folded across her chest in a angry and defensive matter.

Waverly shifts uncomfortably in his chair, giving a sideways glance at the two men seated on his sofa. “Well.. technically you are the only one invited. “ He says, and gives her a faint smile, “These two showed up uninvited”.

Gaby turns her angry glare at the two men who are now sporting their best innocent looks at her. She'd like to cut them into pieces too, momentarily.

She shifts around on her spot for a moment, positioning her hands over her chest and in front of her body as if she's not sure where they should be. She could either turn around and walk out, pretending that this never happened – or face the situation at hand and march over to her team, except Gaby's not sure if they'll be a team after what will go down tonight.

She looks at her feet and swallows, suddenly feeling exposed in her choice of clothing for the evening; a little black dress which clings to the small curves of her petite body, leaving nothing to guestion. She looks at Illya with a concerned, nearly apologetic look – it is not how she wanted him to find out about her secret and it is certainly not at all like the scenario she had imagined in her mind, although it is partially his own fault, for being so nosy and barking in without an invitation.

She sighs finally, (one of those unapproving little sighs for her boys) and drops her hands to her sides, her clutch tightly in one hand. No one says a word, but she knows she has three curious pairs of eyes on her. All it takes is her to let out a frustrated sound, as she turns to stomp towards the large dining table, and the men all switch to a nearly identical look of mild shock and confusion, eyebrows raised high as they watch her go.

No one says a word again and Gaby finds herself really wishing she was in a position to serve herself some good old vodka (but that would be awfully inappropriate), until Waverly lets out an uneasy cough, Napoleon puts out a muffed squee and, well.., Illya is still staring at her with his eyes wide open.

Gaby rubs her temples as she waits for a reaction, she is sure they all have a pile of questions for her, but no one dares to ask and the room is filled with uncomfortable silence. It takes a while until Illya realizes it's him they are all waiting for, to make the first move, and what he does is not what any of them expected at all; Frankly it's not what he expected either, but none the less it happens, as he turns his gaze towards the ceiling and blinks rapidly. He's the best of KGB, he's basically a walking killing machine, the red peril as the cowboy would say– and here he is, having to pinch the bridge of his nose very, very hard in order not to sob like a fool.

There is a soft smile on Gaby's lips once he finally looks at her again, his view a little hazy from the water in his eyes. “как далеко....?” _Kak Daleko? How far?_ He finally manages to ask, itching to rush over but forced by his pride to stay put, instead wishing she'd walk over and seat herself on his lap like she has done so many times before, behind the closed doors of their many hideouts.

Gaby's smile widens and she eyes the whole bunch of men that she has come to understand as her family. Se doesn't speak up immediately, instead taking in the encouraging, almost fatherly look from Waverly, and the excited glee of Napoleon who looks like he's about to bounce over and ask to touch the delicate bump she has been hiding, before glancing over at Illya again.

“Thirteen weeks..” She almost whispers, her gaze lowered down to where her hands rest on her lap. She feels oddly nervous, and not at all like herself. It's like a little flashback to when she first had to turn Illya in on their first mission, except they're not on a mission right now and the whole scenario is altogether different. She's not sure whether she likes the vulnerability that has come with her current state, the unusually delicate feeling she has of herself.

Illya stares at his feet, he has no idea what it means of course. Thirteen is only a number to him after all, not a measurement that he can relate to. He realizes though, that for nearly half of that time that he has been elsewhere, on a mission in another country or state depending where they have been located, but often at least thousands of miles apart.

“это дочь, да?” _Eto doch', da? It's a doughter, yes?_ He asks, after what feels like hours (but is actually mere minutes), and earns a small smile from Gaby. What he really wants to ask though, if it was that one stormy night when he reached home (as they call any safehouse they spend more than a week in) after a long mission, wet from the rain and mildly injured (just scratches he assured, nothing serious), hungry and worn out - and she had stood there with bare feet, clad in nothing but her silk sleeping gown, tipsy from her late night drink as she prepared to lie restless in an empty bed yet again. It had been fire then, lust, need and gravity pulling them to each other that night, and they hadn't really thought much about it, too intoxicated by each other to think of any consequences.

He lifts his gaze up to meet Gaby's eyes, and sure enough there's a spark of that same fire there, and he smiles.

It is not the news he expected to hear tonight, in fact it wasn't the news he ever expected he'd hear. The situation wasn't ideal, and much less intimate than the two of them would have liked it to be, he assumes, but he looks away from everyone to where Waverly keeps a few framed pictures on his bookshelf and smiles. Because he can't look at her without the other two men accompanying them seeing his stupid expression, and he isn't ready for that just yet. Not ready for the jokes the Cowboy might have ready by now, and not ready for the congratulating yet worrisome look Waverly must be sporting. So for a moment he looks at the older man's framed memories and lets the smile linger on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Google translate is responsible for the russian, I apologise if it makes no sense.  
> Please R&R - I'm writing after a 5-6 year break from fanfiction. This movie has ruined me.  
> Might add to it later, but posting already for my sis (thanks for encouragement <3)!


End file.
